Origins: The Prodigal
by liztits
Summary: An evening curled up on the couch in a shabby London apartment turns to learning about previously untold aspects of her story. (T for swears, AS verse)


**This was originally two stories but I smashed them both together because that's how I roll. Part of the Amy Shepard Verse. I don't even know what I had in mind when I started this, I guess I just felt like my version of Miranda needed more of a background. And then it sort of spiraled and absorbed another story I'd started. **  
**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this, and I hope that you will leave me reviews because I am a sensitive soul and I need them. **

* * *

Cool, calm, collected, with biotics that could crush a man and an equally deadly shot. That was Miranda Lawson. People feared her, looked up to her. Hell, some even worshipped her.  
She did what she wanted, took what she wanted, and never took no for an answer. Beautiful, deadly and intelligent, she was perfect. Just like she'd been engineered to be.  
She didn't see herself like that, though, and half of what she knew, she'd learnt the hard way.

She hadn't meant to kill anyone, the first time it happened. She'd fired a few warning shots at the men chasing her, firing at her with their own guns, trying to scare them away. She'd scared herself though, when the third shot she fired lodged itself into one of her father's guards' foreheads.  
"Miranda, come on!" She'd heard yelled as she froze in shock, watching the man fall to the ground. Before she had time to really process what had happened, a rough hand grabbed her, shoving her into the passenger side of a shuttle.  
Miranda sat quietly, looking at the gun still clenched in her shaking hand, as her companion rounded the shuttle and dove into the driver's seat, quickly starting up the engine and flying away while the other guards where still distracted.  
"I killed him, Niket." Miranda had sobbed when her feelings had finally caught up with her. "I didn't mean to do it, I swear, I was just trying to scare him off."  
Niket had reassured her as best he could, reaching across the seat and rubbing her arm gently. "It was you or him" he'd whispered, over and over. She'd calmed down eventually, and she'd never tell anyone that that was her reaction the first time she'd killed a man, but she was just fourteen, and back then it'd seemed like the worst thing she could've done.

* * *

She didn't speak about it now, had never told anyone else the story, except Jack. When Shepard had asked, aboard the Normandy, she'd just coolly replied "shots were fired" and left the exchange at that.  
When she finally told Jack the story, the younger woman had been quiet for a long time after. "Your father would've rather killed you that let you leave?" She asked, voice low. Miranda hadn't been expecting Jack to react like that, had expected to be called a pussy, or teased, but Jack just pulled her close, not speaking.  
"How did you meet Niket, then?" Jack had asked after a while, still holding Miranda.

* * *

She'd been about six, the first time she met Niket. She'd snuck out of her fathers house, easily outwitting the guards placed around to stop her from doing such a thing. She'd go back, eventually, but she was just a child, and she wanted to play outside. So she did. She'd gone down to the lake near the huge mansion, and sat watching the ducks, content to just be outside. Until a ball had struck her in the side of the head.  
She'd looked around blindly for a moment, until she spotted the ball, and the skinny little boy, a year or two older than herself, running up to her. Grabbing the ball from the grass, Miranda pulled herself from the ground, resting her tiny hands on her hips. "I don't know who you think you are!" She's yelled, throwing the ball back twice as hard. The young boy had crumpled, and Miranda instantly felt apologetic.  
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that." She reached down to pull the boy up.  
"It's okay" He grinned, even though he'd sounded a little winded. "I'm Niket" he stuck out a hand, and Miranda had grasped it firmly.  
"Miranda Lawson."

They'd gotten on exceptionally well after that, spending the rest of the afternoon playing by the lake, until her father had turned up, expression dark.  
"It's time to come home, Miranda." He'd said, voice dangerously low.

* * *

He'd beaten her that night, telling her it was for her own good, that she'd learn to behave better this way.  
Jack had been angry when Miranda told her that. "If you hadn't of already killed him, I'd rip the bastards head off" She growled lowly, burying her face in Miranda's soft hair.  
Miranda chuckled slightly, enjoying the protective tone to her girlfriends voice. "Anything else you want to know?" She'd asked, tightening her arms around the thinner woman.  
"How did you end up with Cerberus?" Jack had asked, not moving from her position curled around her.

* * *

She'd been on the run for two years before Cerberus caught up with her. At first she'd been terrified, had bolted straight away, not listening to the soldier that had turned up.  
Cerberus had worked with her father, were probably still working with her father, tracking her down for him, so she fled.  
She'd been on Benning at the time, and thinking that no one would find her here, so far from Earth, she'd let her guard down. She'd spent a week hiding around various parts of the colony before she'd worked up the courage to return to her home and collect her things so she could move on, find somewhere even further away.  
She'd been confused when she'd opened the door to her tiny prefab and been greeted by a man she'd never seen before, sitting in the only chair in the house and using her favourite mug as an ashtray.  
"Miss Lawson, I've spent a lot of time looking for you." He'd told her, voice oddly comforting.  
"If you're here to take me back to my father, then I should hope you've got some backup" She'd told him, hands on her hips and chin jutting out.  
She'd been trying to look menacing, but looking back, she probably looked ridiculous, 20 pounds underweight and wearing baggy, stolen clothing. Still, she'd tried, and the man had smiled at her sheer will.  
"Don't worry, I'm not here to do that. You're far more valuable to me than he is." He told her, taking a deep drag from his cigarette.  
"What do you want then?" She'd asked, not leaving her position by the door.  
"I'm here to offer you sanctuary" He stubbed the cigarette out on the side of the cup. "I'll keep you safe from your father, give you room and board, a wage, and train you."  
"And what do you want in return?"  
"You'll work for me, when you're ready, of course."

* * *

She'd gone with him, eventually, and he'd been true to his word, keeping her father away and sending her to one of the new Cerberus training facilities.  
When she turned 18, The Illusive Man started sending her on missions, and she quickly rose through the ranks, becoming one of his most trusted agents. She was fiercely loyal to their cause, up until her last meeting with Liara on the Lazarus Station, when the asari had told Miranda to let the dead rest.  
Then, just for a second, she'd had a wavering thought that maybe it wasn't the right thing to do, to bring Shepard back.  
The thoughts were soon quelled by the Illusive Man, and even now she's glad she listened to him and brought Shepard back, but the seeds of doubt were sewed for the first time.

"When did you start doubting Cerberus again?" Jack mumbled, still cuddled up to the other woman.

* * *

"You were clearly a mistake."  
She'd regretted that the minute it'd left her mouth, not that she'd ever admit to it. A look of hurt had flashed through Jacks eyes, just for a second, and then it was gone, replaced by cold anger, but Miranda had seen it.  
It was one of those things, she could push it out of her mind during the day, but at night, alone with her thoughts, it came rushing to the forefront, replaying over and over.  
She'd asked the Illusive Man, of course, about what had happened on Pragia, and gotten a brush off answer. She'd done hours of research on the topic, nothing coming up on the system.  
She knew in her mind she was trying to justify what she'd said to Jack, but she just couldn't.

Which is why she found herself standing nervously at the top of the stairs to the cargo hold. She would just apologise for what she said, and move on. Make the most of the last few hours before they hit the Omega-4 Relay.  
Standing in front of Jack, her resolve crumbled. She couldn't make eye contact with the tortured young woman in front of her, overwhelmed by what Cerberus had done. What she'd been part of for the last 20 years of her life.  
"I'm sorry" She'd mumbled, pulling Jack up short, stopping whatever she was about to say.  
"What?" the smaller woman had asked, face crumpling in confusion.  
"I'm sorry. For what I said to you, I didn't mean it. You're not a mistake." She took a deep breath. "And I'm sorry, for what Cerberus did to you. I'm so sorry…" Miranda trailed off, looking up at Jack and trying to push down the tears she could feel welling in her eyes.  
What Jack did next was what surprised her the most. Instead of hitting her or telling her to leave, the former convict surged forward, pressing her lips to Mirandas and bringing a surprisingly soft hand up to cup her cheek.  
Later, as she lay over Jack, breathing heavily and slick with sweat, she knew that everything she'd stood for, dedicated her life to, it'd all been for the wrong thing. And even though Jack had brushed her off afterwards, labelling it a goodbye fuck, her voice had a tenderness to it that hadn't been there before.

* * *

"And then you were just as cold as ever, for a while." Miranda grinned at Jack, who had shifted them so she was curled up into Miranda's side, pressed together on their worn sofa.  
"I know I was being a dick, but I just didn't know how to handle it." Jack sighed, pulling herself closer. "Fuck, when that bullet grazed you in the Collectors base, and you fell, I swear, my heart leapt into my fucking throat."  
Miranda wrapped her arms more tightly around Jack, rubbing one hand along the smaller woman's arm.  
"Tell me another story" Jack requested softly.  
"About what?"  
"Us. Anything. I don't care."

* * *

The last time they'd seen each other, before London, had been on the Citadel. She hadn't even told Jack she was there, not wanting to pull her into the mess she'd found herself in.  
Jack found her anyway, slipping through the door just after Shepard left. Miranda's appearance had upset her. The former Loyalist was thinner than Jack had ever seen her, with dark bags under her eyes and perpetually shaking hands.  
She'd taken the older woman's hands, stilling them before pulling her closer, kissing her softly. Miranda kissed back, harder, more desperately, and pressed into her, pushing her back toward the bed.  
Miranda had let Jack push her down into the sheets, kissing every inch of her body and whispering things she'd never repeat, she dug her fingers into Jacks hair, scrapping against her scalp and squeezing her eyes shut. Hot tears leaked through and Jack kissed them away softly.  
Miranda wished she could tell Jack what was happening, wished she could at least stay the night, but she rose shortly afterwards, slipping into the catsuit that was once tight and now hung loosely from her frame.  
She watched Jack sleeping in the bed, hair let down from her usual ponytail and spread around her face.  
That was the moment that she realised that she loved her, and left before she could say something stupid and get them both killed.

* * *

"That was when you realised you loved me?" Jack questioned, eyebrow raising against the skin of Miranda's shoulder.  
"Yeah… I mean, the feelings were there, I just hadn't had time to process them." Miranda shifted slightly. "When did you know you loved me?"

* * *

Jack dragged herself back to her quarters. She loved teaching, a lot more than she thought she would, but it was exhausting. Thursday nights were extra-circular activity nights, and a room full of biotics of every age is enough of a challenge as it is. On top of that Prangley and Rodriguez had gotten into another fight over something ridiculous. Part of her wished they'd just kiss and get it over with, do everyone a failure.  
Jack shuffled through the door of her room, flopping down onto her bed without even bothering to take her boots off.  
"Long day?"  
Jack immediately flung herself back off the bed, fist glowing blue as she searched for the source of the voice. Her hand dropped when she saw Miranda standing in the corner of the room, grinning at her.  
She crossed the room quickly, pulling Miranda to her and kissing her. "What are you even doing here?" She asked when they pulled apart.  
"I missed you." Miranda ran her hand though Jack's growing hair. "Your hair is so long now, you're getting a Mohawk."  
Jack suddenly felt self-conscious. "You don't like it."  
"Don't be silly, I love it. I hope you keep it long."  
Jack kissed Miranda again, one hand roaming up to her hair and the other resting on her hip. The kiss soon deepened, and Jack pushed Miranda down to her bed, slowly unzipping her catsuit and kissing down the length of her stomach.  
A dark mark under one side of the zipper distracted Jack, and when she pushed the material back to get a better look at what the mark was, she pulled up short.  
"When did you get that?" she asked, pointing to the small J tattooed just next to Miranda's hipbone.  
"About a week ago." Miranda told her, propping herself up on her elbow to gauge Jack's reaction.  
"Why?"  
"I just… You mean a lot to me," Miranda's voice grew small. "Don't you like it?"  
"Like it?" Jack asked, leaning down to kiss the tattoo "It's sexy as fuck."

* * *

"Really?" Miranda asked when Jack had finished talking. "Why then?"  
"No one had ever really cared about me, my entire life. And I'd done the same. And then you turn up, and you're flawless, right down to your skin, and you mark it, just for me." Jack ran her thumb up under Miranda's t-shirt and over the spot where she knew the tattoo lay. "And I loved it. That you cared that much. I loved you. I love you."


End file.
